(no subject)
So, I'm pretty sure I figured out the great mystery of Jonathan Wall. I'm fairly certain his old bulemic girlfriend, Ashley, came back from New York.
What a fucking pussy. He didn't even have the balls to tell me. The fucking decency. Courtesy. Ugh.
The best part. The best goddamn part was what he said to me the last night I saw him.
"Sara, I really don't like to say cheesy things, but when you look at me the way you are and when you laugh and smile, I think it's probably the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
BULLSHIT. BULLSHIT. BULLSHIT.
I should have spat in his face.
Oh my god. Everything just makes...so much sense.
Where the fuck was my head?
Seriously?
Where the fuck?
Can you tell I'm mad? Just a little? Hmm? Possibly?
Man, he got me. He really fucking got me.
I don't know. It makes me feel better. A lot better. Especially, when I think that he's hooked back up with the girl that paid her way to New York by giving truckers blow jobs. What a winner. What a fucking winner.
What a fucking pussy. He didn't even have the balls to tell me. The fucking decency. Courtesy. Ugh.
The best part. The best goddamn part was what he said to me the last night I saw him.
"Sara, I really don't like to say cheesy things, but when you look at me the way you are and when you laugh and smile, I think it's probably the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
BULLSHIT. BULLSHIT. BULLSHIT.
I should have spat in his face.
Oh my god. Everything just makes...so much sense.
Where the fuck was my head?
Seriously?
Where the fuck?
Can you tell I'm mad? Just a little? Hmm? Possibly?
Man, he got me. He really fucking got me.
I don't know. It makes me feel better. A lot better. Especially, when I think that he's hooked back up with the girl that paid her way to New York by giving truckers blow jobs. What a winner. What a fucking winner.